Of Thimbles and Kings
by pieanddeductions
Summary: Sequel to I Wish The Shadow Would Take Me Away.
1. Chapter 1

**The Monster In The Cage**

**Prologue**

* * *

_A/N: Helloooo! Sorry about the delay on the sequel! I won't babble on too much here. I just hope you like it!_

_Disclaimer: much to my absolute anguish, I don't own any of the settings or characters within this fic. Just borrowing them for a bit if that's okay :)_

* * *

"Who are you?" The boy tightened his fingers around his hammer and tried to stop them from shaking along with his voice. He didn't look at the girl as he spoke, although he felt her shift towards him inside her cage. He hadn't seen her face since he'd arrived but her voice, and the confirmation of the Boys who had been here since before her imprisonment, assured him that she was indeed a girl. A person, not a creature. He knew it was probably not wise to ask, but he was not wise. He was drawn to danger, to the thrill of it. That was why Peter Pan had let him stay in Neverland.

Because he was brave. Because he was reckless enough to believe in anything and everything.

"I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours. You're new here, are you not?" her voice was soft, but he didn't let that fool him. He had been told about her; the way she liked to make deals. The way she liked to lie. He had been so afraid when he was first sent to stand guard for her. Afraid, and excited. That was the day it was decided; that he was a Lost Boy, well and truly. Guarding the girl in the cage was his honour.

"I don't have to tell you anything," he said.

"Hmm. I suppose I'll have to give you a name myself, then," she mused. When he turned around, she was pressed against the side of the cage, fingers looped through the gaps. He could see her eyes- blue, wide. Human. They were fixed on him.

"My, you've got curly hair," she murmured. "How about that? Curly." She grinned, although he could only see half of it. Adrenaline kept him rooted to the spot, perplexed. She didn't seem to him to be monstrous. That must be the most dangerous thing about her, he thought.

"My name isn't Curly."

"Too late," she said mischievously. "You had your chance to choose your name. Don't you know? If you don't do it quickly, somebody else will choose one for you."

"Nobody chooses their own name," he told her.

"Sure they do," she said. "I, for example, am Red Handed Jill." Her eyes were glinting through the bars. "So named because of the blood of my enemies that simply soaks the earth wherever I go," she was whispering, and he was closer than he'd first thought. With a start, he jolted back, raising his hammer in front of him in warning.

"Don't try anything," he spat bravely. "I'm not stupid. I've heard the stories."

"Well _I _haven't," she said. "Tell me, what do they say about me? What does Pan tell his new recruits to make them fear the monster in the cage?"

"He tells us the truth," he said. He felt a rush of pride, then. Pride at being a Lost Boy. Pride at being _Pan's _Lost Boy. He had a leader who did not spout rules at him. He had a leader who let him do whatever he wanted. He would not let him down.

"And yet," she said, "he did not tell you my name." There was a note of victory in her voice.

He hesitated, because he could not deny that she was right. Pan would let him do whatever he wanted. But he would not tell him everything. He knew more about the mysterious Truest Believer than he did about the girl in the cage, and the little he knew, he'd heard from Tootles and Nibs. His curiosity singed him, wavering his loyalty. He felt like he would be letting Pan down, if he asked for her name, and he would not let Pan down. He wouldn't.

But as it turned out, it wasn't up to him.

"My name is Wendy Darling," the girl said, clearly, so that there was no chance of him mishearing her, and he was suddenly full of the satisfaction of_ knowing_- and the guilt of knowing that he shouldn't know. "Tell me, Curly, are you really scared of me?"

He flinched and looked away. He didn't _have_ to talk to her. In fact, he shouldn't talk to her. So he returned to his silent post, staring into the forest.

He didn't see the smile that twisted Wendy Darling's face as she slid back, letting herself lean against the back of the cage. He was afraid of her, alright. The way that he jumped around her, too scared to speak- it was glaringly obvious.

"Good," she whispered to herself, and if the Lost Boy could hear her, he said nothing in response.

* * *

Wendy didn't know how long she'd been stuck in that cage. At first, she'd tried counting, keeping track- but she knew from her game with Pan that in Neverland, such strategies would do her no good. So she gave up, and let her limbs curl in, and let the Boys who came to guard her think she was just stewing in there, plotting against them.

In a way, she was.

In a way, she liked it.

She liked the reputation she was given, hand-crafted ever so courteously for her by none other than Peter Pan himself. She liked that they were afraid of her- and she liked that Pan himself must be afraid as well, for since she'd first awoken in her cramped prison, he hadn't come to see her once. She had played the game of waiting, at first; waiting for him to come back. Waiting to see his face, hear his smug taunts or desperate excuses. Waited for an opportunity to spit in his face, to tell him what she really thought of him. But as time passed, and he did not come, she grew tired of waiting. Still the fact that he was constantly sending Lost Boys to bring her food and water and let her out of the cage if only to wash herself, meant that he hadn't forgotten her. They would replace her cage on occasion, each slightly bigger, each slightly stronger. Each less relenting when she shoved her all weight against it, tearing at the twigs.

She had escaped from her first cage that way- slowly working at the back wall, making a hole, then making it bigger. She had slipped out at night, and the Lost Boy on duty hadn't seen her leave- at least, that was what the boy said. Truthfully, it had been Tootles who had watched over her that night. He had been the one to tell her that Rufio had died. It couldn't have been more than a few days since she'd been captured, and she'd begged him for the truth. When he gave it to her, he'd seen the look in her eyes and he knew that her friendship wasn't a lie. He'd let her run. He'd hoped that she would make it. But Pan had known. Somehow, Pan always knew. He sent Felix to stop her, and he'd blown poppy dust in her face.

That made it the second time Wendy had woken up in a cage.

* * *

It was a dull life, but not so dull as one might think. She entertained herself via the boys who guarded her. When Tootles did it (which was an infrequent occurrence as it was), she could merely talk to him; he would tell her of the games they had played that day, or of new Boys who arrived on the island. But normally, she enjoyed playing up to her menacing reputation- making dark, malicious statements, singing songs of blood and death, claiming that she knew just how to curse a boy if he didn't give her the information she wanted. It was amusing when it worked, and it was amusing when it didn't, because then, she watched them squirm. If they didn't believe that she was a hideous monster than that meant that they didn't believe Pan, and that would make them a traitor. It wasn't a position any Lost Boy wanted to be in, and Wendy loved to gently push them into it.

Curly was the newest of the Lost Boys.

Wendy liked him, as much as she could possibly like a member of Pan's impossible group of Disciples. He was brave, and curious, and stubborn. She commended Pan for choosing to keep him. She knew from Tootles that Pan hadn't been keeping many of the Boys the Shadow brought back anymore. He'd discarded dozens, sending them back to their homes. He sent them howling. Wendy heard their screams, and she wondered what they had each done to endure Pan's wrath. Of course, she knew it wasn't so much a question of what they had done to be banished, but of what the others had done to make him like them enough to let them remain.

* * *

She sighed as the first rays of sunlight began to touch her face. The nights were bearable, but the days were endless boredom. The days were when the Boys would play, and, aside from somebody being sent to slide an apple through to her as cautiously as one might feed a python, she was left to her own devices, with nothing to do but think. Thinking, she quickly discovered, was its own kind of torture. So Wendy made a point not to think about herself or a predicament- for that would do her no good. Instead, she dedicated her time to noticing things. She noticed the island. She noticed that, even while the sun was shining, there were layers of grey clouds not far away, threatening to swallow it up. She noticed that there was a certain kind of bird- a tiny, green one- that had made its nest in the tree to her left. She noticed that it fed on blue berries, even though Pan had told her that they were poisonous when she had tried to eat them, once. She noticed the Lost Boys- when they would run past her in the midst of a game. Nibs had lost two of his fingers, no doubt playing a variation of one of their more deadly games. Tootles was becoming thin, and fast. Why, just the other day, she'd seen him catch Slightly in a game of tag, and everyone knew that Slightly was quick. Curly had been dropped into the ocean when he'd arrived, and Felix had swum out to retrieve him- only to find Curly battling the waves perfectly well on his own.

Felix, though his smile was still a rare sight, was thriving. He was Pan's second in command, his champion, his trusted advisor. He wore that title like it was a crown of gold around his head. How long would it take, Wendy wondered, before he realised that, even though he was back in Pan's good graces, he still didn't have what he wanted? She hated Felix for a thousand reasons, but somehow, when she thought about that, she felt a little sorry for him. He was fooling himself, and that never ended well. She should know.

Then there was Hook. Tootles had told her of what had happened- how he had finally been able to leave Neverland in search of his revenge. She was glad of that; glad that one of the three friends she'd had on the island had managed to get what they wanted. She still wasn't sure what his revenge was to be, but if she were to hazard a guess, she would say it must have something to do with the woman called Milah- the one whose necklace she still wore. The necklace Pan had given her. Pan, and not Peter- not anymore.

He was one of the two people whom Wendy hadn't seen since she'd been trapped, and for that, she was pleased. On the one hand, it filled her with satisfaction, knowing that she had affected him enough that he couldn't bear to see her face. On the other, it filled her with relief- for he had hurt her too, whether she wanted to admit it or not, and she feared that if she looked him in the eye, she might have to admit it- at least to herself.

Tinkerbell was the second person Wendy hadn't seen, and this time, she wasn't pleased at all. She wanted to see her old friend, more than anything else.

_Wendy is my friend._

It was the last thing she'd heard her say, and then she had heard her be slapped down for it, punished because she'd refused to betray Wendy. She wanted, so very much, to tell her that she was her friend, too. But even Tootles hadn't been able to tell her of the fairy's fate- for what had happened to Tinkerbell was so secret that he guessed only Peter Pan and Felix would know. Wendy didn't plan on ever speaking to Pan again, and Felix wouldn't tell her if she asked.

That was another thing that Wendy tried not to think about.

* * *

_The next chapter should be up at some point tomorrow. Stuff will actually start happening then :P_

_Thank you for reading! Please do review and let me know what you think!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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_A/N: oh my god thank you so much for following/favouriting/reviewing the prologue so quickly! I tried to update as fast as I could for you guys :), hope you like it! _

_Oh, also, you may want to read 'Scars'- the oneshot thing that I wrote about how Felix came to be a Lost Boy; it helps clarify a lot about his actions in this chapter, next chapter, and generally throughout this fic as well. Of course, you don't necessarily have to read it to understand the sequel- I'll reveal his backstory here a little later on in the story. Okay I'll shut up now goodbye friends!_

* * *

The Boys were playing hide and seek- or, a variation of it, at least. When they were found, they were tied to a tree by Felix. They were to be left there until dark. Motivation to win, Wendy supposed. It was the kind of game that she would have loved to play; the kind that shook the nerves and excited the heart. Games that made you realise that you were alive; those were the ones she liked best. She wondered if Pan had come up with this one.

Probably, he had. After all, he was a monster.

Like her.

"I found Tootles!" Nibs cried triumphantly, and Wendy laughed to herself as she squinted, able to make out the poor boy being grabbed by the forearms and dragged to a tree, joining the boys already there. Curly had been hiding in the tallest branches of the tree with the tiny green bird- not that Nibs or Felix had found him yet. If only they would let her out to play, she would surely win this game. There was not a place nearby that she didn't know better than anyone. But of course, they were all too afraid of her to ask. So Nibs walked off in completely the wrong direction, and Curly was able to stay, safe and hidden.

"Idiots," she muttered to herself.

"They are, aren't they?"

* * *

She froze, not daring to move a single muscle. That voice. That_ voice_. She closed her eyes, but she knew he was there, and she wanted to know how he was able to speak to her like that, so casually, as though the last time they'd spoken she hadn't called him a monster. As though he hadn't told her that he was what she'd made him as he walked away, leaving her in this cage, no more than somebody's pet bird.

"Did you hear me, Darling?" he said, impatient. "Or are you going to ignore me?"

_That. The second one._ She was going to ignore him, because she didn't know how not to. Because she had so many things to say, and not one of them was harsh enough, or gentle enough, to start with. Peter Pan was not somebody she had woken up expecting to see. She had not truly expected to ever see him again.

"Nibs, I understand," he went on conversationally. "But I didn't quite think that Felix would miss it. Hiding in the branches of a tree- isn't that generally the first place one would look?"

Nothing. She said nothing.

God, why was he here? And why now? She had no idea how long it had been, but she knew it had been no short amount of time since he'd bothered to visit. Now here he was, criticising his Lost Boys' ability to play Hide and Seek? Still refusing to speak, she opened her eyes. He was standing beside her cage, head tilted upwards, towards Curly's hiding spot. He was wearing the same green that he had always worn. He was too close.

She scrambled to the corner of her cage farthest from him, and she thought about how there was nowhere near enough room or air here. She breathed in slowly, calmly as she could.

"I hear you've been scaring my boys," he said. "Quite amusing, really. But then, I'm sure that's why you do it." He almost laughed. Then he stopped. "All of them, that is, but Tootles. Care to explain why Tootles might not be so afraid?"

No, she did not care to explain. She would not explain anything to him. It was only fair. She didn't even have to ask; she knew he wouldn't tell her a thing about Tinkerbell, and why she hadn't seen her.

"I see," he said, irritated now. "You're upset with me, are you? You'll just have to get over it, Wendy. Things won't be very pleasant for you if you don't."

Things weren't pleasant for her as it was. He should know, she didn't care about 'pleasant'.

He shrugged and turned around, beginning to walk away- and then he stopped, feet planted on the ground again. He came back.

"Is that it?" he said, and his voice was a little uneven now. "You've not seen me since your failed escape, and you have nothing to say?"

Nothing at all. She glared at him, even though she knew he probably couldn't see it. He didn't seem eager to get too close to the cage. Maybe he was beginning to believe his own stories about her, the monster in the cage.

He nodded, then. "Right. Well. See if I care. I know how you enjoy solitude." This time, when he walked away, he didn't come back.

Wendy waited until she could no longer feel his presence, hear his footsteps. Her heart was hammering, as though she had been running for life. She wished she had been able to run from him then. But above all, she wondered 'why'.

_I don't care, _she told herself. She couldn't care. It would be stupid to care. It would be letting Peter Pan affect her, and that would mean letting him win.

So she held her breath and counted to ten, and when she exhaled, she banished those curious, dangerous thoughts from her mind, focusing instead on Curly, hands growing sticky with sweat as he clung to his branch. She wondered whether it was strong enough to hold him up for much longer. She wondered whether Felix would climb the tree after him, or whether he would throw stones at the branch to make him fall down instead.

She wasn't a player in the game of hide and seek that day, for she had nowhere to hide, and no way of seeking. Yet, somehow, she was the most invested of them all.

* * *

Felix guarded her that night, mainly because everyone else was tied up to the tree, the cost of the game they had played and lost.

In a way, Wendy was glad. Felix wasn't like the others, who would dare themselves to speak to her; dare themselves to take just one step closer to the lunatic in the cage. Felix didn't try to speak to her at all, because there was nothing that he needed to say. He had what he wanted, and Wendy, though still furious for what he put Tinkerbell through, had not the means to release her anger stuck in her prison. Besides, she couldn't quite summon the energy to feel truly angry. So she was able to close her eyes, willing herself to sleep, if only a little. Sleep was always hard to come by for Wendy, and being trapped with her knees nudging her chin and her arms circling her legs wasn't helping on that front.

After a good while of shifting, turning, scratching at insect bites on her arms, she found herself quite past the point of tiredness. Her eyes wouldn't stay shut, and her limbs were restless, craving movement.

"I want to get out," she said, and Felix glanced at her, surprised.

"Obviously," he said. "I suppose I don't have to tell you that you're never getting out."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that," she said, annoyed. "I meant I want to get out of this cage for a minute. I _need_ to, if you catch my drift."

She smirked as she felt Felix fumbling with the latch at the front of the cage then. Even though it was dark, she was sure he was blushing. She'd learned to be quite blunt about the somewhat awkward business of requiring Neverland's oh-so-spectacular bathroom facilities; it was no use trying to be delicate about it when the alternative was sitting in a cage arguing with her bladder. She slipped out of the cage, sighing as her feet touched dry leaves and dirt. Felix watched her with unmistakable distaste, and she knew that nobody hated to see her outside of her cage, even momentarily, more than he did. He gestured around the tree line.

"No running off."

"Of course not," she said sourly. "You know I would hate to inconvenience you like that."

"Stop talking," Felix muttered, and she shot him a glare as she made her way behind the trees. She thought about making a run for it, purely to irritate him, but thought better of it.

* * *

She took as much time as she could dragging herself back to the cage. It felt so strange to not have to be carried kicking and screaming into her prison. It felt like she was betraying herself by escorting herself back of her own accord.

"Smart choice," Felix said, and Wendy glanced at him, wondering if that had possibly been intended as a compliment.

"Back to the bloody cage, then," she sighed, and he gestured towards the open door, stepping aside so she could crawl in_. _

_Traitor_.

That was what she felt. She had tried to run before and it had been useless, but at least that had felt like trying. This felt like giving up.

"You know Curly was in that tree the whole time," she said, stopping just before the cage entrance.

"What?"

"In your game today. Really, it was quite obvious."

Felix sighed, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to her knees, then into the cage. Her mouth twitched. That felt better- being forced.

"You're awfully chatty," he said. "For a prisoner."

"Always was. Won't stop now," she said simply. She hesitated. "Did you know that Pan came to my cage today?"

Felix's hands were on the door, pulling it shut- but he froze, then, leaving it halfway open. He didn't look at her, but his jaw was tight.

"I don't see how that's any business of mine," he said stiffly.

"I thought it might be. I thought that he might tell you these things, now that you're his second in command again."

"I don't care," he decided, and he shut the door with relish. "I don't care what you thought."

"But you care what he thinks," she said bluntly. She surveyed Felix through the bars. Last time she had implied anything akin to this, he had slapped her across the face so hard she'd lost her balance. Now, he just shook his head.

"Stop talking," he said again, more softly than she could have anticipated.

In the midst of deciding whether or not to keep talking just to spite him, a wave of fatigue drained Wendy, pulling her eyes closed. Resting her head on her own, bony shoulder, she allowed herself to drift away.

She dreamed of so much that night that she couldn't possibly remember all of it the next day. But there were details; parts of it that did stay with her.

A tall London house with an open window.

Two young boys, beckoning to her in a field of green, smiles as familiar as the inside of her prison.

A smooth black stone on a corded necklace.

A pirate ship, hammered down with rain, and a boy sitting beside her, his hand over her heart.

* * *

Wendy awoke to light; bright light beating down on her without mercy. Her cage door was wide open, unhinged, as though somebody had hacked at it with an axe, breaking it down entirely. As though someone had been trying to…free her?

"Take your time waking up, Darling." She flinched, and as she blinked sleep from her eyes, she registered Peter Pan, blocking the way out of the cage with his arms crossed. She kept her gaze down. She had heard his voice the day before, but this was different. There was no barrier to separate the two of them now, and if she tilted her head even a little bit she would see his face. She really didn't want to do that.

"Aren't you going to say hello?"

She bit her tongue. The only possible victory or dignity she could hope to gain now was to defy him, to not give him what he wanted. She wouldn't speak to him today, and she wouldn't speak to him tomorrow.

"Well, then," he said, voice suddenly stentorian. "Let's see if a familiar face can make you recall your manners." He stepped aside, grabbing something from behind her cage, and Wendy heard the unmistakable sound of someone struggling against bond limbs. Straightening up, she crawled from her cage into the light, following Peter cautiously to the large tree that the Lost Boys had spent the night tied to. Except, now, there were no Boys there. Now, there was only one figure bound to the trunk, and it was small and green and filthy.

_Tinkerbell._

* * *

Wendy was running, closing the distance between them as fast as she could-

And then she slammed into Peter as he appeared between them, and she fell back from him at once. His touch stung her, more than anything because it did not used to. That there had been a time when it had been something other than repulsive to her wasn't a pleasant recollection.

"I caught this one," he said, rounding on Wendy, "trying to set you free. She knocked your guard unconscious and everything. Quite a valiant effort, wouldn't you say? The sheer damage she managed to do to your cage. It's almost impressive."

"Wendy?" Tinkerbell's voice was just barely a whisper. She had always been small, but now she was awfully thin; the sleeves of her dress were loose around her arms, and her face was smeared with dirt and blood. She didn't quite resemble a fairy anymore. More like a broken person. Her eyes widened as she locked on Wendy's own face, and she realised that maybe she, too, looked a little more broken now than she did the last time they had seen each other.

_The last time they had seen each other._ Wendy's smile was trembling as she remembered; she had meant to stay with Tinkerbell until she woke up in the Treasure Cave. She hadn't done that. Her curiosity had got the better of her. If only she'd stayed where she was. If only she had kept true to her word.

"A touching reunion," Peter said, as though this was all somehow personally amusing to him. "I knew you'd want to see her, Darling. But that isn't why I brought you here."

Wendy shot him a look, silently screaming every curse and threat she knew.

Grin turned sour with malice, Peter uncurled a whip from his belt, holding it out between his two hands as he moved towards Tinkerbell.

Wendy and Tinkerbell looked at each other, neither of them eager to look at the whip. They knew what was coming. They knew what this was. It was hard to say whose heart sunk the fastest.

"Don't even think about interfering, Darling," he added, pleasantly- although his words were anything but. "Your job is to just stand there, and be an audience to this. Witness what becomes of those stupid enough to work against me." His finger brushes Tinkerbell's cheek and she shivered, flinching away from him.

And he expected that Wendy would do nothing about it. She snarled. As he faced Tinkerbell, Wendy made a run for it, straight for him, hands grabbing his belt from the back and searching for the dagger that he kept there-

In a heartbeat, he'd pushed her off him, with more force than he'd ever done before. Wendy stumbled backwards, falling over her own knees, and when she landed, she felt hands circle around her, trapping her where she was, unable to get up. Her arms were locked in grubby hands, and she twisted and snarled, turning to try to discover the identity of her captor.  
Felix.

Not that she was surprised.

She was all too pleased to note the red lump swollen on his forehead. He just grimaced, hauling her to her feet and dragging her across to a tree just opposite Tinkerbell's, as though she were a ragged doll. Wendy growled and gnashed her teeth, but it did her no good. Sitting in a cage all day had made her weak, and Felix was stronger than she remembered him ever being. Within a short while he had her tied up, ropes biting into her skin.

* * *

"Wendy!" Tinkerbell said, voice growing in strength. "I'm sorry, I didn't- I couldn't-"

"Did I say you could talk?" Peter snapped.

"What do you want?" Tinkerbell asked stiffly. He smiled at her, if only to bare his teeth; an animal circling its prey.

"I made a promise to a mutual…friend," he said. "Captain Hook. I'm sure you remember."

"You told him that you wouldn't hurt me," she hissed.

"That I did," he bowed his head. "I intend to keep my promise, Tinkerbell. I always keep my promises. But, if you'll recall, I never said that no harm would come to you- only that it would not be by my hand."

Despicable. He was despicable. Wendy tasted blood as she bit her tongue trying to keep the words in.

"Felix," Pan called his second in command like he was a bloodhound; an animal to do his bidding. Either Felix was just that, or he didn't mind being mistaken for one. Obediently, he sauntered towards Tinkerbell, holding out his hand silently as Pan handed him the whip.

"Are you sure you want to punish her like this?"

* * *

Felix's question was surprising- to Wendy as well as Pan, apparently. Peter flicked a brow at the Lost Boy.

"What alternative would you suggest?"

Felix swallowed hard; there were three sets of eyes fixed on him, and something told Wendy that he wasn't accustomed to such attention.

"I… would suggest," he muttered, "that is… maybe instead we should make her apologise."

"Apologise?" Pan repeated delicately.

Felix was turning red. "She would have to mean it," he went on, tripping over words as he tried to redeem himself, "she would have to really be sorry that she ever tried to defy you. She would have to promise not to do it again."

"That is how you would deal with it? Apologies and promises," Pan said, every word demeaning. "Felix…" he let out an unexpected laugh. "Brilliant." He clapped Felix on the back, and Felix sighed with his whole body.

"You think so?"

"This is why you are my second in command," he said. "Tinkerbell," he turned to her. "I am willing to let you go, back to your tree-house. Back to the miserable little life you've built for yourself. On the condition that you make it clear, both to myself, and to Wendy, that you are completely and entirely remorseful of your actions today, and that you never intend on doing it again."

Wendy had to stop herself from scoffing, because, really, Pan was being stupid. Not that she was going to complain; anything was better than her friend being whipped before her eyes. That was the strange part. Anything was better. Surely Pan knew that? How he equated Felix's (and, admittedly, her own) preferred conflict resolution with his own, inhumanely brutal one, was something she didn't understand.

Until, that was, Tinkerbell looked at her.

Her eyes were wide, a sick look taking residence within them, and her lip shook. To her, Wendy realised with a dull stab of horror, this was better. But to Tinkerbell, this was worse. This would feel like betrayal to Tinkerbell, and, if Wendy had been in her position, she would have felt it too. But she had to do it. She had to.

As best as she could, Wendy smiled at her, nodding, letting her know that it was alright. She had to do what she had to do.

But Tinkerbell just smiled back, shaking her head. She was beginning to cry, but silently- the kind of crying that Wendy hated most of all, because it was the kind that you couldn't stop, yet couldn't acknowledge.

_Wendy is my friend._

It had been the last thing Wendy had heard her say. She had been slapped for it, Wendy knew, but it occurred to her in that moment that she didn't know everything. She didn't know what else it had cost her; she hadn't considered it. But now, looking at her, hearing what Pan had said about a tree house and a miserable existence, she could hazard a guess. It was a guess that made her feel sick. It was a guess that told her that Tinkerbell had endured much for the sake of being loyal to her. But more than that, and so, so much worse than that, it told her that she would endure much more for that same purpose.

"I will not," Tinkerbell said, with all the steel of a soldier. A soldier, not a fairy.

Peter showed all his teeth as he advanced on her, but he was not smiling.

"Oh? Do you know what will happen to you if you don't, fairy? I am being more than generous with you, Tinkerbell. Do _not_ test me."

"There's nothing generous about it and you know it, Pan. You want me to say I regret trying to save my friend. Well, you're mad."

Wendy couldn't stop herself from making a noise of protest, but Tinkerbell ignored her, speaking on, and speaking with fire. Saying all the things that Wendy would say. But where the fairy fought Peter Pan with her words, Wendy's defiance lay in her silence.

"Nobody in their right mind would ever regret that, and I don't think you understand that, Pan, because you don't have anybody whom you would consider a friend." Felix's eyes were downcast as she went on. "And that is very sad indeed."

"Last chance," Pan said through gritted teeth. "Do you regret the actions you have taken to attempt to free the girl?"

"No," Tinkerbell said simply.

"Very well," Pan said. He signaled to Felix with two fingers, gesturing for him to ready his whip. He approached Tinkerbell, holding out his hand. In a haze of green glow, the ropes around her were loosened- only long enough for Pan to turn her body around so that her front was flush against the tree, back exposed. "Felix. You know what to do."

Wendy could hear Tinkerbell's frantic breathing from where she was, and she strained against her binds, rope burning her skin as she did. She cried out in pain, and Felix glanced back at her, paler than usual as his fingers curled around the whip. She just shook her head at him ever so slightly, pleading with him. He opened his mouth a little, and closed it again.

"Felix," Pan said warningly. He was standing behind him now, one hand rested on his shoulder, to reassure him, or to threaten him. To Peter Pan there wasn't much of a difference. Still, as soon as he laid his hand on Felix, Wendy knew she had lost him; Felix closed his eyes and nodded. Then, he did what he always did. He did what Pan asked of him.

* * *

_Felix is back, Peter is back, and Tink is back- yayyy. Tell me what you think? :D also, because you guys are the absolute best, tell me what you want to see in the coming chapters as well! Although I won't be able to include anything that would change the overall story arch I've got planned, I'd love to add in any little things you want to see (interactions between specific characters, funny little scenarios, etc.)._

_Cheers fellow Oncers! I'll update as soon as I can. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Torments**

_A/N: Hi guys! So, unfortunately, tomorrow the school year begins for me, meaning I probably won't be able to update as frequently :-(. I'll aim to update at least once a week and see how it goes. In the mean time, here, have a chapter:_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

Wendy would never forget the scream that followed the first lash. The way it grated against Tinkerbell's throat. The way she tried to suppress it. The way it came out anyway.

It was only when she felt warm blood dripping from her own arms that she realised how hard she'd jolted forwards, fighting the ropes too much for her skin to take. But she didn't care.

Tinkerbell's hands were fists, her arms shaking. In that one flick of the whip, the back of her dress was ruined. A stain of dark blood was spreading down her back. Her scream turned to whimpers.

"Again," Pan's voice cut through the air, a whip all of its own. His wish was Felix's command.

"Is it worth it?" Pan had said, repeating the question over and over. "Your _friendship_? Is it really worth it?"

Tinkerbell just sobbed as Felix's whip cracked down on her spine over and over again. Blood was all Wendy could see. Tinkerbell's; her own. And all that she knew was that this had been doing on for far too long; Tinkerbell had been crying for far too long, and if she fought the ropes anymore the cuts they were making along her arms would become so deep they would never heal. She could hear her own breathing, ragged and loud and far too fast. Her vision was blurred and she was probably crying, too. She couldn't be sure.

"Look well, Darling. Because this is for_ you_." Peter turned to her as Felix continued to inflict his whip upon Tinkerbell, and Wendy was seeing double now; double the demon boy standing in front of her."This is what happens to the people you fool into _believing_ you."

Tinkerbell let out a cry as the whip cracked on her skin once more.

"Please," she was saying, having taken all that she could. "Please stop."

Felix let out a strange noise then, and he paused, waiting for Pan's word.

Pan wasn't looking at him. His eyes were fixed on Wendy, an anger in them that she wasn't sure she quite understood. He wanted something from her, she could tell. Whatever it was, she was determined not to give it to him. All that she would give him was her silence.

Ever unexpectedly, he exhaled, closing his eyes.

"Stop." It was barely more than a whisper, but Felix heard it. He dropped the whip, hands limp by his sides, specs of blood giving colour to his pale skin. He very nearly breathed a sigh of relief and Wendy could not contain her own. Her arms ceased aching as she stopped struggling. Tinkerbell's screams stopped, and the silence that fell across the four of them because of it was eerie; as though Tinkerbell still ought to be crying. As though Wendy ought to be yelling. As though Pan ought to be gloating or commanding Felix about.

It was over.

Oh, thank god, it was over. At least, she hoped it was.

Wendy glanced at Pan, brow furrowed; this had to be a trick. There had to be more. Something he wanted. Some cruel joke. But when he met her eyes, he delivered no punchline. He just stared at her, eyes wide and green.

"Darling," he began, voice hoarse. Wendy just shook her head, and he fell silent once more.

The silence stretched on for far too long; it was almost haunting. But it was a far, far better sound than that of a fairy's cries.

* * *

Felix was the one to escort Wendy back to her cage. After a long while Pan had mumbled the order to Felix, telling him to unbind her. He didn't look at Wendy as he freed her; as the bloodstains on the ropes revealed just how hard she had been fighting them. Tinkerbell was still tied to the tree, and Wendy planted her feet, not daring to leave her alone with Peter Pan.

"She has been punished," Pan said, as though reading her mind. "The lesson is complete."

Wendy snorted, stunned by the pure fury pumping through her own veins. How her body could contain such a large amount of anger was beyond her. In fact, she didn't quite believe that it could. She was shaking terribly. It seemed the whole world was shaking.

"Wendy," Tinkerbell said softly, and she froze, taken aback by the peace in her voice. "We'll be okay." She glanced down at Wendy's bleeding wrists then, grimacing. "Why did you do that, Wendy? Why did you fight? You didn't have to..."

Wendy did not break her silence then; not just because she must defy Pan, but because she knew not what to say to that. She just smiled as best as she could, and she let her friend know like that.

Tinkerbell seemed to understand.

* * *

Tinkerbell's blood smeared across her skin from Felix's fingers, and they were trembling as they pulled Wendy's arm. She found she had not the strength to fight him. He led her away from Pan, around the corner. It was only then that she swept down on his fingers with her free arm, forcing him to let her go.

"Don't," she hissed. "Don't you dare."

Felix furrowed his brow. "You forget, I don't need your permission to take you back to your cage." But curiously, he made no move to grab her.

"You just need _his_," she spat. "I know. That's all you ever need, isn't it? It was all you needed to torture a _fairy._ Pan's permission. His _order_. You're worse than I am, you know. If I'm a prisoner, then you're a willing slave."

"I am Pan's second in command," he cleared his throat. "I don't expect you to understand that. To understand loyalty."

Wendy scoffed. "Maybe. At least I don't let somebody else make all of my decisions for me."

"You don't get to make _any_ decisions," Felix said, and he returned his grip to her arm, keeping it firm even as she struggled.

"Neither do you," she said, once she'd given up fighting him physically. She could beat him verbally, in any case. "You didn't want to hurt Tinkerbell."

Felix inhaled sharply, his whole body tensing. Wendy glanced up at him, her disgust wavering, if only for a moment. She was right; he hadn't wanted to harm her. At first, all that had meant to her was fury. Fury that she had stood there and seen Tinkerbell bleed and cry. Fury that it was a cowardly boy taking orders who had made it happen. Fury that he hadn't done a thing about it. But now, it meant more. She softened her voice, treading carefully.

"You didn't want to hurt her," she repeated. "I know you didn't. Your hands are shaking. You're paler than I am- and I've been stuck in a cage for god knows how long. You regret it, don't you?"

"This," Felix said oddly, "is none of your business."

"None of _my_ business?" she said, and all the anger and guilt and disbelief that had gnawed at her as the ropes gnawed at her wrists came to the tip of her tongue. She spat it out. "Tinkerbell was tortured because of _me_. Because she tried to free _me_. It's my fault. It's my fault, and it's my responsibility, it's my punishment, and that sure as hell makes it my _business_. Tell me you regret it. If you're more than just some domesticated _pet_, tell me." She was breathing hard when she finished, and tears made her cheeks sticky to touch. Felix stared at her, almost blank in the face of her outburst. Almost.

"I…" he hesitated. "It doesn't matter what I wanted."

Wendy just waited, looking at him. They had reached her cage now- it looked to have been repaired by Lost Boys in her absence- but neither of them had acknowledged it.

"I don't regret doing what Pan asked," he said at last, voice heavy with the weight of the words he spoke. "I just wish that he hadn't asked me." He stopped, and Wendy knew by the way he pursed his lips tight together that it was all he was going to say.

_I just wish that he hadn't asked me. _

Wendy blinked at Felix, then, and she wondered whether his loyalty to Pan made him the weakest person she had ever encountered, or the strongest.

"Cage," he said gruffly, when she didn't move. She paused. She hadn't paid Felix all too much mind before- aside from wanting to kill him, and oh, she wanted to still. But perhaps it was also that she had no surplus in company. Either way, Wendy found herself wanting to speak to Felix some more. To find out more. Maybe she could make him braver. Maybe she could make him an ally. She hardly dared to think it, but the thought was there. Fantasising about a friend, an escape. She supposed that was all she had now.

Felix was half-turned away from her when she swallowed her questions and crawled into the cage that Peter Pan had led her from all too recently. She could smell him when she breathed in, and it made her feel queasy because it was too sweet a scent. The sun was already fading, having lived brightly and swiftly. The moon was waiting behind it to take its place, to cast a new sort of light on Neverland. The sort of light that liked to flirt with the dark. It was more warm to Wendy than the sun ever would be. She peered through the bars of her cage. Felix had locked her in, but it seemed that he did not intend on keeping her company. Nibs was positioned a few metres ahead of her, with his back to her. She sighed, allowing her head to fall back on the corner of the cage. She closed her eyes, and she breathed in the traces that Pan had left in the air; trying not to think about Tinkerbell. Trying not to think about how it was all her fault. After a while, the scent of him became almost soothing.

_My, I must truly be going mad. _

It followed her into her dreams.

* * *

Peter waited until Wendy was well out of his sight before he turned to Tinkerbell, cutting away the ropes that bound her with a single flick of his dagger. She tripped over her own feet at the loss of the force holding her up against the tree. In a way that she would've called instinctive were it not for the fact that it was Peter Pan, he caught her, holding her upright by the shoulders.

Facing her, and so close, he could see the red in her eyes; the tears that still ran down either side of her face. She had been brave; for Wendy's sake. Now she was gone, Tinkerbell had begun to cry once more. She didn't care about crying in front of him; he was prepared to bet that she wanted him to see it. See it, and feel bad about it. But she would only be disappointed. He had done what needed to be done.

"Do you _ever_ plan to stop blubbering like that?"

"It…hurts," Tinkerbell said, hand going behind her back as though to shield it from the breeze that stung the lashes there. "What are you going to do with me?" her voice trembled along with her arms.

"What indeed," he muttered. "Turn around." He made an impatient noise when she did nothing, moving so that he stood behind her. This was a bad idea, he knew. One that even the thought of the fairy would not allow him to forget. Nevertheless, he rose his fingertips to her wounds, running them over the length of the cuts that had torn her dress. She flinched, first at his touch, then in surprise as the pain was gone. Slowly, his magic was healing her, knitting her flesh back, smoothing over her skin until it was as though nobody had ever hurt her. Of course, they both knew that wasn't quite true.

Tinkerbell whipped around at once, hand flying behind her, touching the healed skin as though to assure herself that it was indeed healed. Finding that it was, she rose her eyes to meet his.

"Why did you do that?"

"Just be grateful I did," he said gruffly, but Tinkerbell shook her head. Apparently, Wendy's friendship had made her bolder than she had been in the past. It was a good thing it had, too. Neverland was not a place for the typical gentleness of a fairy.

"Why? If you wanted to punish me, then..." she blinked. "Oh. I see."

"Do you?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"It wasn't meant for me," she said with conviction, though her voice was still rough from screaming. "Was it? It was Wendy. You meant to punish _her_. Why? You have her locked up, for goodness sake!"

His jaw clenched. "Demanding answers does not become you, Tinkerbell."

She flinched, but went on as though she hadn't heard him. "Haven't you done enough?"

He almost laughed. "Enough? Me? I saved her _life_ where you failed. You would do well to remember that, fairy." He stepped closer. "You failed her. She would be dead if not for me. Did you bear that in mind, I wonder? As you waltzed into my camp last night, ready to play the hero? As you came to _free_ her from me, did you remember that _I am the one who saved her_?"

"Of course I remember!" Tinkerbell blurted out. "There's not a day that passes that I don't wish I had been able to save her in time! But you did, and I was glad. And then you locked her in a cage! Why? If you really loved her-"

All at once, his hand was around her neck, and she was pressed against the tree again, fighting for air.

"Fairies," he snarled. "Looking for_ love _everywhere. Looking for happy endings. I suggest you take your intuitions and scurry back to your tree house, because you will not find_ either_ here." His nails dug into her skin as he let her go, sending her staggering backwards. This time, he made no attempt to catch her. He was breathing hard. "You ruined it," he spat. "You ruined everything, and you needed to know that. You needed to see what you'd done, so you'd understand." He broke off, voice suddenly weak. "It didn't have to be like this."

"What?" Tinkerbell gasped, rubbing her throat. "What are you talking about?" His eyes were bright, feverish- but he wasn't looking at her. He wasn't looking at anybody. "Who are you talking to?"

"Fly away, fairy," he said distantly, though she wasn't sure he'd heard her. "Fly away, or I might try to kill you after all." He wasn't moving; just standing on the forest floor, littered with the blood he had ordered there and staring at nothing; talking to no one. Lost.

She hesitated, legs wanting to move. Somehow, she was stuck; as though, ridiculous and illogical as it was, she shouldn't leave him alone like this. It wasn't what she'd been taught. It wasn't what good fairies did.

And then the wind blew, and her bare back grew cold, and she remembered why.

Without a word, she picked herself up. She ran away from him as fast as her feet would carry her.

She did not look back.

* * *

_Ta-da! Hope you liked it :) _

_I noticed that quite a few of you have picked up on the changes in both Peter and Wendy's characters in this sequel. They sure have changed quite a lot- Wendy being stuck in a cage inevitably has taken it's toll, and Peter was extremely hurt by her in the Echo Caves, hence his cruelty now. Don't worry, though! Wendy isn't going to become weak- she's trying to fight back in a different kind of way for now, and she just has to find a way to gain some power for herself. Oh, and she will *evil grin*_

_Please do review and tell me what you think/ask anything you might want to ask! I always love reading your reviews :)._


	4. Chapter 4

Loss And Gain

* * *

A/N: _...so, this is a very, very late update... pls forgive me? :P. Seriously, though, I'd hoped to update a lot sooner than this, but everything just got super busy :(. Hopefully I'll update faster next time._

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

It was raining again. Not heavily. No water soaked through the cage roof, it wasn't that harsh a storm. Still, it made the air cold. It didn't smell like him anymore, and for that, she was grateful. He had haunted her dreams too well, too easily. He and his whip, covered in blood. He had been laughing in her dream, and his whip had come down across the backs of two young boys, boys who were calling her name as though it was familiar to them. He had looked at her, daring her to interfere. Wanting her to. But her hands and feet had been bound, and he had her at his mercy. It wasn't a pleasant dream, and she was glad to be rid of it.

But if she'd opened her eyes and hoped that her reality would be any different, she was sorely mistaken. She heard his voice, although she could not see him. He was ordering about his Lost Boys; something about a boy who would be approaching. Something about needing to be ready. His voice was colder than it used to be; not that it used to be especially gentle. He knew that she could hear him, she was sure of it. And that could only mean one thing: that he didn't intend on keeping his distance any longer.

"Wonderful," she muttered to herself, and Curly, who was standing guard, flinched at the sound of her voice, taking a step back from the cage- all for his own safety, she was certain.

"You're awake," he said stiffly.

"And _you're _observant," Wendy said. "Are you going to talk to me today, Curly?"

"Stop calling me that."

"Why aren't you down there, then?" she went on. "With the rest of the Boys. Has your _wise _leader decided that you aren't worthy of being involved in whatever it is he's plotting?"

"I _am _worthy," Curly said passionately. "He trusted me with guarding you. I already _know _everything he's telling the rest of them."

"How exciting for you," Wendy said. She paused. "But I doubt you really know everything."

"I do!"

"I bet you're only pretending that you know," she goaded him, in a sing-song voice that she knew perfectly well would anger him. People like Curly were loyal, yes. But they wanted everybody to know it. They wanted everyone to know just how trusted they were. Surely it would be only too easy, therefore, to get Curly to tell her a little something about Pan's plans.

Sure enough,

"I am not pretending- I know the whole of it, I know about the Believer, I know when he's coming, I know-"

"Curly." A third party said, timid and breathless from running. "Pan says I'm to take over."

"Tootles," Curly said, flustered, as though he had only just become aware of the stream of words that had been bursting from him in a fit of anger. "Of course. _It _is all yours." He bowed away, throwing a rather frightened look back at Wendy as he did. He'd said too much- at least, he thought he had. But that did Wendy little good.

'The Believer' was coming. How perfectly unhelpful. How was she to make any sense of it? Of course, she might have, if Tootles had not interrupted. But the poor boy was standing before her now, cheeks red as he caught his breath, a kind smile on his face. The only kind smile that Wendy had seen in a long time- and probably ever would again. So she breathed out, long and hard, and smiled back.

* * *

"He wasn't giving you a hard time, was he?"

"Oh, Tootles, you know the question is not whether or not he was giving me a hard time, but whether _I _was giving him one," she said lazily. Tootles didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded.

"I beat Nibs today," he said. "Arm wrestle."

"Ah, I see a congratulations is in order, then. I do wish I had seen Nibs' face."

Tootles flushed. "He wasn't happy. I think he was just really surprised. He's always been the strongest of us, now that-now that Rufio isn't around." He cleared his throat.

"Rufio could've beaten all of them," Wendy said adamantly. "He probably could've done Pan some damage, too. Smacked that _look_ right off his face. Do you know what he did to Tinkerbell? Just when I thought a person could not be more rotten." She shuddered at the memory. She didn't intend on reliving it, not really- but now that Tootles was here, she could properly complain.

Tootles, however, shifted, looking uncomfortable.

"Is he really rotten, though?" it was little more than a mumble.

"Is that even a question?" Wendy said incredulously. "Tootles, what do you mean? I thought-"

"He healed her," Tootles said, very quickly, like he wanted to get it over with. "He healed Tinkerbell."

"He- what?"

"With magic," Tootles clarified, and Wendy shook her head, brow furrowed.

"I don't believe it," she said. "I can't. You didn't see him. There was blood falling to the ground, and she was screaming, and he didn't care at all. He can't have healed her."

"He did," Tootles said adamantly.

"How would you know that? You weren't there, were you? Tell me you didn't just stand there and watch-"

"No," Tootles blurted out. "I didn't! Of course I didn't, Wendy. I could never."

"Then how do you know he healed her?" she narrowed her eyes, for Tootles was beginning to look quite guilty indeed. "Unless…" she widened her eyes, piecing it all together. "Unless he told you that he healed her. Told you to tell me. Didn't he?"

"He…" Tootles just stuttered. He wasn't one for eloquent words, let alone eloquent lies. In the end, he gave a single, helpless nod. "He told me to tell you. It was the only reason he let me be on guard. I _am_ sorry, Wendy."

"Unbelievable," she spat. "That he would think I'm that stupid- that I would actually believe that he would heal her-"

"Heal her from what?" Tootles said softly. "I… he didn't actually tell me what happened, exactly."

"He had Felix whip her," Wendy said bluntly. "Because she tried to help me." She came as close to Tootles as she could, and he was leaned towards her as well. "Tootles, you mustn't ever try to free me again. He will do the same to you- this bastard who claims to be a saint." She snorted.

Tootles, who was frozen at her words, gave a short nod. If she'd had the room, she would've thrown her arms up in exasperation. Instead, she just growled low in her throat.

"Did he really hurt her?" he said softly. Wendy just looked at him, as though he was being absurd.

"You're asking me if Peter Pan hurt her? You're really asking me that?"

Tootles swallowed hard, shaking his head a little. "Is Tink okay?"

Wendy shook her head, but her eyes softened. It was easy for her to forget that the Lost Boys had known Tinkerbell once, too. Easy to forget it wasn't just she who might care about her fate. Tootles was not as soft and round as he had been, but his worry for Tinkerbell made him look younger. More like a child again. Of course, in Neverland, he always looked like a child. Still, in this land where nobody aged, you could tell that Tootles had been around for a long while.

"When Baelfire was here," he said. "I was one of the lads in charge of helping him sleep at night. He had these dreadful nightmares, see. The others would all give up and go to sleep. It'd just be me and Tink most nights, sitting by him."

"You were her friend too," Wendy said expressionlessly.

"Not the best of friends. I knew her, is all. She was nice." He didn't seem to want to say much more than that.

"You're not asking me about Pan's plans," he noted after a sombre silence between the pair of them.

"No point," Wendy said. "The bastard's got eyes everywhere, hasn't he? Haven't_ you_." She spoke louder. The trees rustled then, restless, like she had called them out on their eavesdropping. Tootles' wide eyes met hers-

"Tootles." It was Nibs, hurrying out from behind bushes, breathing hard as he ran. "I'm to take over here. You're dismissed."

"I've not been here for more than a few moments!" Tootles protested. "Nibs-"

"Pan's orders," Nibs cut in, silencing the other boy at once. Wendy's head was down, and she made sure not to offer Tootles any form of 'farewell'; anything that might give Nibs cause to run along telling Pan of their friendship. No doubt he would see it as an alliance; an attack on his bloody authority or some other nonsense of the sort. She listened to his footsteps as he shuffled away from her. Nibs didn't say anything to her, and she wasn't in a mood good enough or foul enough to want to goade him. So Wendy sat in silence, and the rest of her day passed as it sometimes did; agonisingly slowly, and perfectly alone.

* * *

"Tootles is far too glum these days," Peter remarked, not looking at his Second in Command as he spoke to him. He was sprawled across his hammock, hanging between trees, rotating his pipes in his hands. When Felix didn't respond, he glanced up to where he stood, back leaning against one of the tree trunks.

"Well?" he said, irritated.

Felix only shrugged. He was staring at his own hands. Peter thought he looked rather foolish doing so. He didn't see what Felix did; the whip curled between his fingers, coating them in somebody else's blood.

"Let's have it then," Peter groaned, throwing his feet over the edge of the hammock and laying his pipes aside. "I know that look. First Tootles, now you. What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Felix said at once, but he lacked conviction. Felix was a terrible liar; it was something Peter quite liked about him. It meant it was easier for him to be lied to, and god knew how many times that would come in handy.

"You're lying," he said easily. "Spit it out."

"I only wonder," Felix cleared his throat, still avoiding looking at him, "if Tinkerbell is alright." In truth, he had not stopped wondering since he had dropped the whip the night before; since he had escorted Wendy back to her cage, he had wondered. But Tinkerbell had been gone when he returned to the clearing, and Pan hadn't said another word on the matter. He knew it was unwise to ask. Indeed, Peter was on it at once.

"Tinkerbell?" Peter said, frowning. Well, that was unexpected. "What's the matter, Felix? Sympathetic to the fairy now? I suppose that's what's got Tootles down, as well? That or his insufferable loyalty to the girl."

"I told you, it was nothing."

"What do you care whether the fairy is alright or not?" Peter persisted. "She is the enemy of the Lost Boys. She is_ my_ enemy."

"She is," Felix said. "It's just that cuts like that- they can easily be infected. And they leave scars." His own scar, the one that slashed his face in two, stung as he talked of it. He remembered the infections. He still felt them, sometimes, at night when he couldn't sleep.

"Since when are you an expert?" Peter said airily, and that stung even more. He finally looked at Pan, searching for something in his eyes; but they were light and trivial and blissfully ignorant. He had forgotten, Felix realised. He had really forgotten about Felix. About the whips. "Besides, you're the one who whipped her."

"You told me to," he muttered.

"Felix, Felix," he grinned. "You know better than anyone; in Neverland, you can do whatever you want, and you needn't do anything you don't. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

"Enjoy it?" Felix's voice was very high.

"That's more like it." He felt Peter's hand rest between his shoulder blades- a comforting hand. He felt it, but he didn't. For the first time in thousands upon thousands of years, he felt cold, not warmth, under Peter's touch.

Because Felix had forgotten things, too. He had forgotten birthdays and names and Lost Boys and Pirates and foes; games and days and parties and nightmares. But that was one thing he could never forget. And if Peter had forgotten it, then what else? What else had he forgotten?

That he'd saved Felix? That he'd been kind to him when nobody else was?

His eyes prickled, and it took him a moment to realise why. Tears weren't something he was overtly familiar with in Neverland. He pushed them back, looking at the rising moon.

The hand slipped from his back, then, and he turned around. It seemed that Tootles had reappeared, without Felix having realised.

"Well?" Peter demanded of the boy, pacing to where he was immediately.

"Well what?" Tootles said plainly.

"What did she say?" Peter said impatiently. "Did you tell her?" 'Her' being Wendy. Of course. Felix closed his eyes, turning to walk away.

"I told her what you said. About healing Tinkerbell," Tootles said, and Felix stopped, turning back incredulously. Peter had healed Tinkerbell? He hadn't told Felix that. He hadn't told Felix anything like that. "Wendy doesn't believe you."

Peter drew in a breath then, sharper than Felix would've thought.

"Of course not," he said smoothly. "Tootles, Felix- find the others. Get a fire going."

"Of course, Pan," Felix murmured. Tootles nodded along, without much enthusiasm. Neither boy asked their leader where he was going when he simply turned and walked purposefully away from them, deeper into the forest. Partly, it was because they had no right to question him. Partly because they wouldn't dare. But mostly, it was because they knew exactly where he was going.

* * *

Nibs swapped with another boy whose name Wendy didn't care to remember as it grew darker. He'd seemed relieved to be off; the quiet didn't become him, and he hated to miss out on their games to guard her. She'd pointed out that she really wouldn't mind if he left her alone, but he had just shot her a poison look.

She hadn't been given food yet, but she wasn't sure she would be able to stomach it anyway. Tinkerbell was still there, hanging over her head, echoing after her every thought. Bleeding and screaming, and accepting it all for her own damned sake. Wendy wanted to make it stop. She wanted to hit something; kick, shout, cry, run. But she could barely shift her weight in the cage.

Still, she couldn't say she wasn't relieved to hear footsteps approaching her and the silent guard again. No doubt it would be Felix, sour-faced as he delivered her dinner as usual. Perhaps biting hard into an apple would release at least a portion of her anger. At any rate, seeing Felix again might allow for her to talk to him again- to find out the truth about Tinkerbell- to make him feel guilty for it.

But, as it turned out, it was not Felix who was making his way hastily towards her.

"Leave. Now." It was a cold voice.

"Yes, Pan."

Wendy's blood ran cold, and she moved forwards as far as she could as the Lost Boy hurried off at once- the very picture of obedience. Her eyes narrowed, trying to grasp Pan's shape through the bars-

All at once, before Wendy had time to shield her eyes, a harsh wrenching sound echoed through the forest, splinters showering her body as one of the walls of her cage was torn apart. She gasped, flinching at the shards of wood buried in her skin. Suddenly, there were hands on her arms, pulling her roughly from the cage. Bare feet landed on mud and wet leaves, and she blinked away from the eerie moonlight that was only just there.

"What are you doing?" his voice was furious, words tumbling together like rapids down rocks. "What game are you playing, Darling?" His grip on her tightened, and as she grew accustomed to the light, she was able to see him properly, now. Eyes wide, teeth grit. "Talk. Go on. You talk to the Lost Boys. I know you do. I've_ heard_ you. What do you have to say to me?"

She pursed her lips, and she looked at him; at his fingers digging into her arm. Wordlessly, she jerked out of his grip, stepping backwards. Pan watched her, but he made no move to take hold of her again. He took a deep breath; an exhale that Wendy could hear. She heard it shake as it left his mouth.

"Don't make me say please," he said. "You know I don't like to say please, Wendy Darling."

Wendy opened her mouth then, not because she wanted to say something, but because she was surprised. Surprised that he would willingly speak of it; that he would bring up the words exchanged in the Echo Cave. Surprised that his voice was soft and sad when he spoke next.

"I healed Tinkerbell. I know you don't believe it, but I did. I know you want to tell me that you don't believe me. Surely you must want to insult me." His hands were shaking, and he did reach towards her again- but this time, it was only the tips of his fingers that brushed her skin. "I want you to." He didn't even wait to see if she would speak to him, now. It was as though he couldn't stop himself. "I didn't want to hurt Tinkerbell, you know. But it was you. It was all you. You had to see what you did. You- fooled me. I believed you. I would have protected you. I _tried _to save you too- from your world. That's what happens to the people you fool, Wendy. That's what it's like. That's what you did to me."

He leant towards her, so close she could feel him breathing. She closed her eyes, she let herself feel it. Let herself remember that she'd felt this before. And then she had to hide her smile, because in that one moment, she understood.

She understood how much Peter Pan had cared for her; how much he didn't understand it. She understood how much she had hurt him by trying to leave, and she understood how dangerous he was; how unstable, and how deranged. And how completely in love with her.

* * *

She knew what she was going to do only seconds before she did it, giving herself only a little more warning than she gave him. All at once, she was pressed against him, hands him closer to her, lips dancing with his, a hasty, clumsy, reckless dance all of their own. And, all at once, he was kissing her back, eyes wide with shock for a moment before he closed them, leaning into the kiss, pulling her closer, hands moving towards her waist-

Before he could hold her closer, Wendy pulled back from him, hands pushing back against his chest. She was breathing heavily; they both were. His lip trembled, hands still reaching towards her.

"I," he breathed. "Why did you do that?" She didn't say a thing. "WHY?"

He didn't understand, but she did.

Even as he turned away with his head in his hands and curses at his lips, she had to stop herself from laughing. Because when she had realised that he was in love with her, she realised that that gave her something. Something that she had only dreamed of, lying in her cage night by night.

Power. It gave her the power to make him senseless. The power to make him frustrated. The power to make him confused and desperate for her attention, desperate for her words.

It gave her power over Peter Pan.

And oh, she intended to use it.

* * *

_Sorry about the lack of quality in this chapter, guys- I wrote most of it in a hurry, and I'm sure there are a bunch of grammatical errors/awkward expressions :/. I know I've switched up the dynamics between characters a bit here, so do let me know what you think :) reviews are always, always appreciated! Thank you so much to the absolute angels who reviewed in my absence- you are wonderful, and far too complimentary! :)_


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